


oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, Memories, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Religious Content, There is no happiness here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: It's a lousy funeral, one man in his grief. Bucky is living, yes, but barely. Watching the cryonic chamber door close felt like lowering Bucky 6' under, next to Peggy. He should've had a military funeral, the world should've stopped to pay their respects, my god they should've honored him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's over, still I cling  
> I don't know where else I can go  
> oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head  
> see, the sea wants to take me  
> the knife wants to slit me  
> do you think you can help me?
> 
> [the smiths]

The sterile cryogenic chamber seals shut and Steve can't bare to watch. It feels wrong to lay his best friend to rest in the cold and ice. Standing on the other side of the glass, it's 1943 and water is burning his nose, his eyes. It's filling the cockpit and suddenly everything goes black. 

Drown me, he thinks. 

"He is safe here," T'Challa murmurs, breaking through his thoughts.

You're wrong, Steve thinks. He will not rest until he has shielded Bucky Barnes from every person that wishes him harm.

But, first, there is something he must do. 

On the third day, he faces the ice and plants his hand against the frosty exterior. 

"This isn't goodbye," he says to Bucky's sleeping face. God he looks so peaceful like this. It's harder than he thought, to walk away.

+

Steve doesn't have much faith in God these days but, one week out, he musters up every ounce of grace that remains and kneels on worn pews. He shouldn't be here but New York is home. 

The tiny church has been long condemned and its foundation groans with age. He has roots here, in between a chipped statue of the virgin Mary and stained glass windows. He'd spent many a Sunday within its walls with his scuffed shoes and best suit. Many times, Bucky had gotten the stink eye from Mrs. Beatrice for kicking his feet back and forth as the priest spoke. 

"I miss you," he whispers to the dust, the memories. A sob catches in his throat and he struggles to swallow past it.

Another church, another loss. There is nothing for him here but it feels like home. Here is the funeral Bucky never got. 

 

Dust dances in the air as Steve gropes for candles long abandoned. He'd paid a teenager $40 to purchase a lighter for him earlier, with the intent of dragging his broken soul to the only place that remembers the boy he once was. 

As he runs his fingers over the glassy exterior of the candles, he thinks of Sarah Rogers and the way she had about her. She could soothe away any hurts and bruises with a mothers kiss. Every black eye and battered ego was met with love and understanding words. 

If heaven exists, he hopes she's looking down at her only son and listening as she always has. Here in the semi darkness, he lights three candles: one for Bucky, another for Peggy and a final flame for his mother. 

 

His voice cracks as he begins to speak to the one person who could make it all better; if she were here. "I'm afraid I can't be strong right now, ma. He's...Buck...they really hurt him this time and they won't let me...I fought, ma. I fought hard for him and I didn't back down, I didn't, I didn't, I can't..."

His knees nearly buckle beneath him and he lowers himself to the threadbare carpet. It was once a deep red back when the stained glass windows were still brand new. They are now covered in grime. Nothing stays the same. 

"Peggy...I carried her body, ma. I wanted to carry her over the threshold, not...this. They sang Amazing Grace at her funeral and she _was_...amazing. She was kind and beautiful, she was mine for a little while.  _B-Bucky_ was mine. I wish you could've saw 'em together. Pretty sure they hated each other but y'know me; I loved enough for all of us."

He draws his knees up against his chest and allows himself to really cry. Decades of tears manifest in deep gutteral moans. His body trembles violently and oh, how love hurts. 

"Is it too late to go home, ma? I... I'm sorry I'm sorry, Bucky I'm sorry. Peg...couldn't you stay, why'd you have to go?" 

It's a lousy funeral, one man in his grief. Bucky is living, yes, but barely. Watching the chamber door close felt like lowering Bucky 6' under, next to Peggy. He should've had a military funeral, the world should've stopped to pay their respects, my god they should've honored him.

Instead, they hunted him like a rabid animal.

 

"They should've looked back then...you were right there. I should've waited...you...you jerk, I hate you. I hate you for taking you from me. I hate...I hate _funerals_. I ran, remember that? When ma passed and you found me. But I stayed this time...can't that be enough? Learned my lesson, okay? Just..."

His nose stops up somewhere in between and breathing doesn't come easy.

"... _Please_ ," he adds in a small voice. 

 

A roll of thunder hits outside of the church. Maybe God is angry, he thinks. Steve almost hopes he'll drop right out of the sky and pluck him from the earth. But that would mean losing Bucky and that's not even an option. He clears his throat, hiccups a final sob and stands, parade rest.

"Bucky Barnes is my best friend," he says to the emptiness. "He...he's more. I loved...never told him. He...umm...he's the first person I ever loved, like that. And I know some people don't agree with that sort of thing but I say...my God wouldn't have given him to me if...if I couldn't...And we almost made it...I was going to tell him but the timing's never what it should be.

Then they froze him; they stole him from me, they...he was beautiful and they broke him. He loved sunshine and cotton candy, loved his baby sister something fierce and his ma. Told me he loved _me_ once, in '38. He...he'd been drinking and," Steve smiles at the memory. 

"He said he never met anyone so pretty in all his life. And I know this place is sacred and all but...but I need to tell someone even if it's no one so yeah. Out with all of it, I suppose. Bucky, he um, he kissed me straight on the mouth and claimed he didn't remember the next day. But after that night, he looked at me like....like something I couldn't put a name to 'til Peggy looked at me like that in '42. He lied, he must've."

Steve had thousands of memories he wanted to bury in Bucky but he'd lost him to Wakanda as fast as he'd gotten him back. He wanted to return that stolen kiss again and again until Bucky changed his mind. But, that would be selfish. Instead, he'd repressed his own desires for the sake of giving Bucky the peace that had been denied to him for decades. 

A puff of wind filters through the damaged church and he curls his arms around himself. If Bucky were here he'd squeeze his shoulder and tell him death is only the beginning. If any part of 40's Bucky had survived, he'd go on to wax poetic about the tragedy of Achilles and Patroclus; how, like them, nothing was going to separate he and Steve. He loved science and mythology something fierce.  But Steve is alone in his grief. Achilles without his Patroclus, damaged and mourning. 

 

Lightning illuminates the candles and they flicker slightly. 

"Thanks ma," Steve says. There is always light in the darkness and he will live through this. Bucky is that flicker and the spark. He is only sleeping. Steve sniffles and blows out each candle, one by one.

"Keep Pegs safe for me," he murmurs. The thought of his best girl and his beloved mother together makes his heart swell. 

 

He sucks in a deep breath and exhales mistakes made, regrets carried. "Okay, Buck. I'm gonna fix this mess we made and when I'm done, I'm coming for you. I swear it, I'm gonna make sure my face is the first thing you see when you wake up. Might even take that kiss back if you'll have me."

Thunder rattles the church and causes the rotting wooden door to groan as he walks away. The exterior is a disaster but the foundation inside is solid, strong. No matter the strength of the storm, it will remain.  

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY I'M LIKE THIS
> 
> title is a song lyric by The Smiths
> 
> bucky isn't dead but steve never had a chance to grieve in between losing him over and over. peggy had an honorable funeral and all bucky got (in 2016, going into a sort of frozen death) was a sterile room and one person to mourn him


End file.
